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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26903848">In the End of Your Beginning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/halliver/pseuds/halliver'>halliver</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Tenet (2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Basically just angst, Graphic Description of Corpses, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Pretty much canon compliant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 23:22:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26903848</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/halliver/pseuds/halliver</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They grieve for complete strangers, as they haven't yet had the change to love them. There is life in between, but it always begins and ends with death.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Neil/The Protagonist (Tenet)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Neil</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As a warning: this fic is just angst, no real happy endings here. The first chapter does not contain anything too graphical, but the second chapter probably will.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>The paramedic wraps Neil in a shock blanket, asks if he is okay, over and over again. <em>Of course I am okay, </em>he thinks, <em>there is not a scratch in me, he protected me. </em></p><p>“Sir? Can you hear me? Are you in pain?”</p><p>
  <em>He protected me.</em>
</p><p>“Sir? Are you injured?”</p><p>
  <em>He protected me. It was supposed to be me.</em>
</p><p>A police officer approaches the ambulance, whispers something to the medic’s ear.</p><p>
  <em>It was aimed at me.</em>
</p><p>“Mr. Reynolds? Neil? That’s your name, right? Neil?”</p><p>
  <em>I killed him.</em>
</p><p>“Neil, you are safe now. You are safe. Can you tell me if you are injured?”</p><p>
  <em>I killed him. It was supposed to be me. He protected me. I killed him.</em>
</p><p>He breaks into tears.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Neil had submitted his application for the doctoral programme in theoretical physics just a couple of days ago, he had bought a new bed for his cat, and he had finally decided to start going to the gym. His life was in order, painstakingly ordinary, but perfectly acceptable. <em>I have my shit together</em>, he had thought, and then, he found a strange man in his kitchen, uninvited.</p><p>“I am interested in your research”, the man had said, and Neil had wanted to laugh. <em>No one ever was. </em></p><p>“You can hardly call it research. Just my master’s thesis. I’m planning on expanding it, but for now, it’s just a dumb concept. What has my thesis to do with you breaking into my home?”</p><p>“The concept of reversed time is hardly dumb; I would rather describe it as world changing.”</p><p>“Not time, necessary, just entropy. Though I guess it would be time from the perspective of the particle… Time, after all, is relative.”</p><p>“Or from the perspective of the person.”</p><p>“In theory? Yes. In practice? Probably not.”</p><p>Neil had wondered why he was having a conversation about physics with a man who had broken into his apartment, and refused to even acknowledge the situation, but he had been too curious to stop. Then there’s the odd fondness in the stranger’s eyes, that made Neil’s heart flutter.  </p><p>“I want to show you something”, the strange had said, and without a second thought, Neil had agreed.</p><p>And he had shown Neil everything. Inverted bullet, a turnstile, enough evidence to make Neil’s head spin. He had told him that he wanted to recruit him, that they had a future together, and Neil had been flattered and fascinated beyond belief. But before that future had a change to become reality, an assassin had appeared, aiming his gun at Neil’s chest. A gunshot, and then another, and Neil had found himself standing in front of two bodies.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Neil wakes up in a hospital, head filled with sedatives. The nurse gives him a cup of water and holds his hand while the police officer talks to him. The officer tells him that he had been gone for almost two weeks, that the university had reported him missing after he had failed to show up in his interview. The police had found signs of breaking and entering at his apartment, and his neighbour had seen him leave with another man. The realization dawns on Neil – they are blaming the mysterious man for his disappearance. Neil refuses to talk to the officer, how dare they treat the man that had saved his life like a criminal?</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Neil sits in a conference room at MI5 headquarters and answers countless questions about the man who had allegedly kidnapped him – “Saved me! He saved me” – and the attacker that had taken his hero away from him.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p>“I don’t remember”</p><p>“He never told me”</p><p>“He never hurt me”</p><p>“He protected me.”</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><p> </p><p>The interrogator shakes his head, writes notes to his paper. “<em>In shock, unstable. Stockholm syndrome???”</em> the notes say, and Neil does not protest. A different agent escorts him home and gives him her contact card.</p><p>“Call me if you remember anything, okay?”</p><p>Neil nods and smiles a little. The agent leaves. Neil throws the card away.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, Neil digs the card from his trash can.</p><p>“Where is his body? Who is he? Where are you burying him?”</p><p>The agent is sympathetic, but unhelpful.</p><p>“I’m sorry. It’s classified.”</p><p>“Can I see him? I need to see him.”</p><p>“I’m sorry. He’s not in London anymore.”</p><p>“Where is he? I need to see him.”</p><p>“I’m sorry. It’s classified.”</p><p>Neil hangs up the phone and drinks himself into oblivion.</p><p> </p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>Neil does his all to track down the man, figure out his identity, but finds nothing. He is not one to give up easily, but even to him, the task was too much. How do you find a nameless man that had appeared from nowhere and whose remains had disappeared just as fast?</p><p>One day, he packs all his research, his copy of his thesis and his degree certificate in a box. He sits in his car and drives out of London, to a forest he used to hike in. He finds an old oak tree, digs a pit in the ground. In the absence of a body, he buries the box, in it everything that reminds him of the man. Neil arranges a bouquet of wildflowers on the makeshift grave. <em>How disrespectful. I couldn’t save him, now, I can’t even bury him. </em> </p><p>It had been exiting, fast, dangerous, something entirely new. Neil had always loved the unknown, and the man had gifted him with more mysteries than any physics article ever could. But even more than the promise of a new world, he would miss those warm brown eyes.</p><p>
  <em>He never told me his name.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading! I'm sorry that I got angsty. </p><p>I've been thinking about this fic for weeks now, and writing it for a while too, because the FEELINGS won't leave me alone. A couple of plot bunnies were born in the process as well, you can find the fics about them in my profile. I am not entirely sure if I am happy with this fic, but I felt like I needed to publish it to stop thinking about it.</p><p>The second chapter is about the other end of the story, and from the Protagonist's point of view.  I should have it up in a day or two!</p><p>If you want to, you can also find me on tumblr, @kristalliankka, but I mostly just reblog stuff there.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. David</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of injuries / corpse, if you are uncomfortable reading something like that.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>“Now let me go.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>It’s not fair from Neil to ask me that. If he truly knew me, he must have known: I do not leave anyone behind. </em>
</p><p>Neil had greeted death like an old friend, and while David appreciates his selflessness and bravery, he has no intention of accepting his death. Not without at least trying to save him.</p><p>He feels no sorrow, only determination. He plans carefully, knowing well that the timing had to be impeccable. He inverts, observes, prepares for everything. As he runs through the explosions of Stalsk-12, he knows that a medical team is prepared and waiting for his return, and then, all will be well.</p><p>David watches himself and Ives walk backwards through the doors of the chamber, and scoops Neil’s unmoving body up to his arms. He tries to ignore the blood splattered on his helmet. He doesn’t think about the way Neil’s head lolls unnaturally, about how heavy he feels in his armour.</p><p>Instead, he runs and thinks about the plan. <em>It had to be done, it was always done. Otherwise, Sator’s men would have found his body, known that the attack was coming. It had to be done, Neil had to know it, he had to know I was going to save him. That’s why he was so calm, he knew he wasn’t going to die.</em></p><p>As soon as he steps into the medical copter, Neil is taken from his arms. Organized chaos ensues, the medics shout commands to each other. <em>It’s all going to be all right. </em>Someone removes Neil’s helmet. All movement stops. The head of the team turns her eyes to David. “I’m sorry, sir.”</p><p>David does not hear her. He can only stare. Where Neil’s right eye used to be, is a dark hole. Blood, bone shards and brain matter splattered all over his face. His blonde hair is soaked with blood, the damage of an inverted bullet all too obvious. <em>Don’t vomit, </em>is all he can think.</p><p>“There’s nothing we can do”, someone says, but the sound seems so far away.</p><p>He doesn’t vomit, he doesn’t even pass out. He simply walks away.</p><p>
  
</p><p>---</p><p> </p><p>In a Tenet base, an unnamed, a nameless, faceless operative brings him to a morgue.</p><p>“Thank you. I’ll deal with him.” The operative nods, salutes, and leaves the room.</p><p><em>I’ll deal with him, </em>David repeats in his thoughts. But as much it hurts to admit, he does not know how. He has no idea what Neil would have wanted. He does not know if Neil had believed in anything, he does not know if Neil had a place he called home. <em>He’s from England, I guess, </em>he wonders, <em>though the accent might have been fake. He might not even be called Neil.</em></p><p> </p><p>David takes Neil’s cold hand in his own. Thankfully, the medics had covered his wounds with white bandages, sparing him from having to witness the destruction again. Neil looks almost serene, and David cannot stop his tears anymore. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t save you, now, I don’t even know how to bury you.”</p><p> </p><p>The same operative that had escorted him to the morgue enters the room. He hands David an envelope, with text “Agent 043” written on it.</p><p>“What is this?”, David asks.</p><p>“It’s his, Sir.” The soldier nods towards Neil.</p><p>“I don’t understand.”</p><p>Confusion passes the operative’s face briefly, then he answers: “His last wishes, Sir. Every agent recruited to Tenet must write their last wishes down, and seal them in an envelope. The envelope is kept in headquarters, and only opened when said agent dies.”</p><p>“And every agent must do it?”</p><p>“Yes, sir. By the orders of someone way above my paygrade. They say it’s to remind the recruits of the commitment they are making by joining Tenet. And to help us honour their sacrifice.”</p><p>David nods. <em>By my orders, I assume. For this moment.</em></p><p>The operative leaves, and David breaks open the seal of the envelope.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>As my last wish I request, if possible, that my organs will be donated to those in need. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>If my body is lost, I have no further requests. What’s happened, happened.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If my body can be retrieved, I wish to be buried in a forest near Farnham, in a location specified in the map attached, under the oak tree.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>---</p><p> </p><p><em>“John Doe”, </em>his gravestone says. It breaks David’s heart even more, but the Tenet agent who had agreed to provide the stone was adamant about it.</p><p>“Giving him a gravestone in the first place is against regulations. We cannot risk past him seeing his own grave.” It makes sense, but it does not soothe the rage he feels towards the agent.</p><p>He gets a permit to erect the stone in the forest, “for the memory of all those lost in forests”. The last thing he wants is the police digging around, disturbing Neil’s peaceful sleep.</p><p> </p><p>He stands on the grave for hours. Then sits. Then sobs. From the corner of his eyes, somewhat unsurprisingly to him, he sees Ives approaching the grave. <em>He’s here to kill me</em>, David thinks, and feels grateful for that. He expects a gunshot, but instead, Ives puts his hand on David’s shoulder.</p><p>“I’m so sorry.”</p><p>Silence.</p><p>“It’s his end. But not yours, Cowboy. Not yet.”</p><p> </p><p>There is no doubt in his mind, he knows what must be done. He will revert, set the wheels of Tenet in motion. He will build a global network of undercover agents protecting the world from what could have been. And he will find Neil, and lure him to his death.</p><p><em>I call myself the Protagonist, </em>he thinks, <em>but to all that is beautiful in this world, I am the Antagonist. </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And here was the other end of the story, and some more angst, I'm sorry for subjecting you to me angsting about the tragedy that is tenet. (Action movie? Spy movie? Nope. It's a tragedy, you cannot change my mind. Even if you don't ship Protagonist and Neil romantically, it's so tragic as a platonic relationship, as well.)  </p><p>While writing this fic, I've been listening "Remains" (Bastille Vs. Rag’N’Bone Man Vs. Skunk Anansie) basically nonstop, so if you want to get on the mood I was in while writing, I recommend you to listen to it (I recommend it anyways, it's one of my favourite songs)</p><p>Thank you for reading the fic and my ramblings!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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